


Take a Breath, Hold it In

by mitslits



Series: Prompts [8]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Promting Hartwin smut. Write only if you have interest. Eggsy and Harry did not know each other previously. Lets say that Eggsy was Merlin's proposal for Lancelot. ANYWHO, they start an unconventional FWB (or not-friends-but-with-benefits) relationship. Instead of Harry being the one who eventually freaks out about the fact that 'oh-look! Eggsy's slowly invading my life' lets make Eggsy be the one with the realization-crisis: 'Oh shit. Harry loves me. Do I love him too?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Breath, Hold it In

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I fell in love with this prompt.

He comes to Kingsman from a life without a future, this boy who destroys him. 

Harry watches him with avid interest, this proposal who doesn’t come from money or have a family name worth mentioning in upper tier society. He’s long thought the agency needed fresh blood and Merlin, it appears, has found it. 

Eggsy surpasses every expectation made of him, flying through the tests almost effortlessly. But the boy is an upstart. He’s cheeky, and unconventional, and entirely too reckless at times. He’ll get himself killed on real missions if he doesn’t learn to think. 

So Merlin turns to Harry for help. And Harry accepts. 

He calls him out of training one day, has Eggsy meet him in his office, shows up five minutes late for his own meeting. 

Eggsy’s got his chair pulled up as close to the desk as it can get, scanning the papers laid out on his desk, reading what he can with them being upside down. When he realizes the door has opened he spins around with a guilty start and a sheepish smile. “Sorry, bruv. Got bored. Nothin’ much interestin’ in that lot anyways.” 

“You didn’t get bored, you were impatient,” Harry corrects, brushing past him to seat himself behind his desk. “Which is exactly why I’ve called you here.” 

Brow furrowed in confusion, Eggsy’s head tilts to one side. “Sorry?” 

Harry leans his forearms on his desk, steepling his fingers together. “You’re impulsive, Eggsy, too much so to send you out into the field should you become Lancelot. I’ve been requested to help you learn a bit of patience,” he explains coolly, ignoring the growing look of displeasure clouding Eggsy’s face. 

“You can’t talk to me like that,” he snaps, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. “You didn’t propose me or nothin’.”

Slowly, Harry unlinks his fingers, rising to his feet and walking past Eggsy without saying a word. He doesn’t speak until his fingers are resting on the handle of his office door. “I’m sure Merlin will be very disappointed to find out his proposal has failed such a simple test. I do hope you can find some use for some of the skills you’ve learned here, at the very least,” he says flatly, swinging the door open and looking over at Eggsy expectantly. 

A look of shocked disbelief flies over his face. “No, wait, you can’t kick me out like that.” 

“I’m a Kingsman agent in good standing. I assure you I can,” Harry says coldly. “Now out you go. Unless, of course, you’ve reconsidered.” 

Trapped neatly by the situation, Eggsy has no choice but to accept defeat with a sigh and a nod. “Yeah, whatever. Get on with it, then,” he mutters, jaw jutting out stubbornly. 

“It seems you could also use a lesson in respect,” Harry comments dryly, letting the door swing shut again. 

Eggsy’s only response is a snort of derision as well as an adamant refusal to look at Harry. 

Harry walks back to his desk. As he passes Eggsy’s chair he whips around lightning quick, one hand taking a firm hold of Eggsy’s jaw, his other gripping the armrest of the chair, boxing him in. “Did you hear me, Eggsy?” he asks, voice and eyes filled with steel. 

It suddenly occurs to Eggsy that yes, Harry is in fact a Kingsman agent, rather a successful one, and has probably killed more men than he can count. Probably about half of those have gotten a look similar to the one he’s getting now and he would shrink back if he could, but Harry’s got him firmly enough that he’s not going anywhere unless he says so. “Y-yeah, I heard you,” he says, words tripping over his tongue on their way out. 

“Then the gentlemanly thing to do would have been respond.” Harry releases him, straightening up and leaning back casually against his desk. “You’re free to go for today. I’ll expect you at the same time tomorrow.” 

Eggsy gets the hell out of his office. 

-

Harry is five minutes late again. This time, at least, Eggsy is where he’s supposed to be, albeit drumming his fingers on one leg and motorboating the other one rapidly up and down. “If you learn as quickly as this we shouldn’t have to spend much time together.” 

Startled out of his own thoughts by Harry’s voice, Eggsy whips his head around, shrugging. “Ain’t that the whole point of this?” 

“It is,” Harry agrees, taking up the position he’d had yesterday, propped up against his desk. For a time he doesn’t say anything, just watches Eggsy until the silence stretches out long enough to make the younger man squirm. He breaks the silence with the simple command, “Stand up.” 

Thoroughly bemused, Eggsy obeys, getting cautiously out of his chair and standing with his hands at his sides, unsure as to whether or not he’s supposed to be at attention. He doesn’t have much time to wonder as he finds hands on him suddenly, one fisted in the front of the training uniform, pulling him forwards, the other cradling his cheek, tilting his head upwards. 

Harry’s lips meet his in a clash of tongue and teeth. 

Eggsy’s eyes fly wide open in shock and he lets out a muffled ‘oomph’, the only sound he can really make with Harry practically devouring him. It’s unexpected, and confusing as hell, but not necessarily unpleasant. 

Another surprise comes in the form of Harry’s hands flying to the backs of his legs, hauling him off the ground and wrapping him around Harry. 

Eggsy automatically clutches at him, arms sliding round Harry’s neck so he doesn’t get dropped even as Harry’s hands clutch at his arse, supporting him. His mind short-circuits as he finds himself whipped around, back thudding onto the desk as Harry looms over him. His mind currently out of commission, his body takes over, legs spreading to one side so Harry can fit in between him, fingers digging into his shoulders. 

That’s when Harry pulls away, looking astoundingly unruffled for someone who’s just bent someone else over a desk and snogged them thoroughly. 

Chest heaving for breath, Eggsy stares up at him with blown pupils and puffed, red lips. “What…what the _fuck_ was that?” he splutters as soon as he has enough air for speech. 

“The beginning of your training,” Harry states, as if it should have been obvious. He dips his head in, pressing his lips to the shell of Eggsy’s ear, kissing a path down his neck. 

A thrill of pleasure runs through him as Harry’s teeth brush past a sensitive spot and his fingers seek out Harry’s hair, curl in it, - _and how the hell is this training?_ \- his head tilting to the side to give Harry better access. He would protest more (this is, he’s pretty sure, not a part of the standard Kingsman regimen), but after months of being locked up in the headquarters he’s more than a little touch-starved. He’ll take what he can get, standard or not. 

Harry works quickly and efficiently, stripping him first of his shoes and then of the training outfit. Eggsy had always hated that outfit. 

Harry’s tongue laves over the hollow of this throat, following the lean line of his torso down to his belly button. He lifts his head, trailing his fingertips feather-light over the trail of slick, sweeping off to the side to run first over one nipple than the other. 

Eggsy can’t quite get enough leverage to really arch into Harry’s touch, but his muscles strain with trying anyways. The fabric of his boxers starts to tent up as it becomes Harry’s mouth on his nipples instead of his fingertips. Some strange combination of a moan and gasp is dragged out of him when Harry teases one of them between his teeth, rolling his tongue over it expertly. He worms his hand in between their chests, reaching for his newly aching cock. 

Instantly, Harry grabs his wrist pulling his hand away. “Patience, Eggsy.” 

Eggsy groans in frustration at not being able to find relief. “This was the best,” his breath hitches momentarily, “lesson plan you could come up with?” 

Harry pulls back, something that Eggsy can’t quite identify glinting in his eyes. “I wanted it to be memorable. I wagered this would be sufficient.” As he speaks he slides down his body, coming to rest with his knees on the ground, head nestled between Eggsy’s legs. “The instant you touch yourself this will all stop,” he warns, turning his head to press a kiss to the bend of his knee. 

Eggsy wraps his arms around himself in an attempt to stave off any temptation that might arrive, fingernails leaving marks in his arms as Harry nips and sucks his way up his inner thighs. His hips buck uselessly, seeking friction that isn’t there, cock begging to be touched, brushed, fucking anything. 

When Harry reaches the line of his pants he moves his head up a little, equal to the waistband, pausing for an instant. 

Eggsy lifts his head, searching for the reason he’s stopped, whine already rising in the back of his throat. And he can’t fucking believe what he gets to witness. Harry Hart dips his head and starts tugging his pants off with his _bloody fucking teeth_. The sight has him moaning involuntarily, cock twitching at the slight relief the shift of fabric against it brings.

He can’t stand it any longer. If he waits even another second he’s going to explode, he’s absolutely certain. His whole body shudders as his hand wraps around his shaft, the pleasure instant and intense. 

But then the comforting heat of Harry between his legs is gone and his fingers are being peeled away with a whine from him and a sigh from Harry. “Jesus, please, just let me-”

“I did warn you,” Harry says heartlessly, bending down and retrieving it from its position on the floor. He holds it out to Eggsy who sullenly snatches it away, muttering something about how much of a tease he is and hiking his pants back into place. 

Reluctantly dressed, Eggsy pauses at the door to Harry’s office at a quiet, “Oh, and Eggsy?” He arches one eyebrow, an indication that he’s listening. 

“I’m afraid we won’t be able to meet again until next week. You can’t miss too much of your actual training.”

Eggsy shuts the door a little harder than necessary and heads off to shut himself up in supply closet to find some much needed release. 

-

It takes three more sessions before Eggsy finally manages to make it all the way through without disobeying a single order. By the end of it he’s a fucking master at holding himself back, can wait for hours leaking and dripping without giving in to any sort of temptation. And when he can do that, patience in every other circumstance becomes laughably easy. 

Give him a target and he can train a gun sight on it without moving so much as a muscle until Merlin barks ‘fire!’ in his earpiece. 

Pursue him and he can fold himself up in a space not much bigger than he is, stay there until the all clear is given and he can massage the cramps and aches out of his muscles. 

Give him a bunch of uptight pricks as roommates and he can take all the insults and digs they hurl at him without flinching or retaliating. 

That doesn’t mean he stops going to see Harry. He’s had a taste of his cock and he wants more; it’s the one thing he’s never willing to wait for. He’s practically begging for it the moment he steps through the door. 

And Harry Hart is so in love with him it hurts. He learns every inch of his body, what he likes, what he tolerates, what he can’t stand. He watches his training with pride swelling in his chest, hope that Eggsy can do what all the others can’t, climb through the ranks and take his place as Lancelot. 

He fucks him when he wants it and says nothing more. 

It’s not love but it’s better than dreaming. 

It takes ages for Eggsy to notice. At first it starts with some sort of nagging feeling whenever he watches Harry interact with the other candidates. There’s something missing from it, something in his words to Eggsy that just isn’t present when he’s speaking with Roxy, or Digby, or Rufus. 

At first he thinks it’s just because they’ve been screwing each other six ways to Sunday for months, but it doesn’t take long to figure out that that’s not it. There’s no shift in his attitude towards Eggsy, not ever. The same mysterious quality is always there, whether he’s fucking him or instructing him on the proper way to hold a Px4 Storm Beretta. 

It strikes him one day as he’s rubbing his thumb around the edge of the medallion Harry had given all those years ago. Harry loves him. That’s what it is, that’s what brands his words, his looks, his touches. His gut twists up nervously. Harry might love him, but does he feel the same?

Honestly, he doesn’t know. Eggsy’s never felt anything for anyone, never allowed himself to. Didn’t want to drag anyone into his train wreck of a life. But his life isn’t a train wreck anymore, is it? 

Eggsy stops fucking him after that, takes to avoiding Harry altogether. He doesn’t want to face him. He doesn’t want to face himself either. 

Then he’s freefalling out of a plane and he doesn’t have a parachute, _he doesn’t have a fucking parachute,_ and he’s going to die and he never got to say goodbye to Harry and shit, he’s fucked it all to hell, the one good thing in his too short life and- He lands and lives, miraculously. The knowledge that he did, in fact, have a parachute the whole time does nothing to erase the terror of the past few moments, or the realization that, yes, yes he does love Harry. 

For the first time ever, he hesitates in front of Harry’s office door, gnawing on his bottom lip as he tries to decide whether or not he should knock. His hand is half-raised when the door swings open and Harry nearly walks right into him. 

“Eggsy,” he says, surprise evident in his voice. He looks more tired than usual, face a little bit more drawn. “Was there something that you wanted? I’ve got some files to deliver to Merlin.” 

Eggsy blinks, mouth opening to say what he’s been mentally preparing himself to say the whole walk over, but his mind is suddenly blank, the whole speech just gone out of his head. 

Harry waits for a bit before clearing his throat and making as if to step to one side so he can get around him. 

Eggsy’s hand flashes out, wrapping around Harry’s tie and yanking him in for a desperate, open-mouthed kiss, trying to say everything just through that. He pushes forwards, walking Harry backwards into his office, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. He breaks away, panting, eyes shimmering with words unsaid. Relief floods him as he sees the same reflected in Harry’s.

“Merlin,” Harry says, sliding one hand up to tangle in Eggsy’s hair, “is just going to have to wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> That line 'It's not love but it's better than dreaming' is from "Fumes" by the Eden Project. Fantastic song.


End file.
